


no stranger would it be

by BlackBat09



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, Murder, Songfic, Suicide, Western AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBat09/pseuds/BlackBat09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few nights later, Michael and Ray meet at the tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no stranger would it be

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings in the tags. This fic involves murder, suicide, and lots of angst.
> 
> Inspired by the song "The Hanging Tree," by James Newton Howard, sung by Jennifer Lawrence.

Ray Narvaez Jr. stepped carefully into Gallo Dientes' general store, mouth twisted in a small frown and thick brows furrowed. His dark face was streaked with dirt and the sweat that dripped from his hair, laying limp against his forehead after a hard morning of work. 

"Michael?" he called, looking for auburn curls amongst the shelves. "You here, cariño?"

Usually boisterous, the store was eerily silent, and it was a long moment of quiet before Michael emerged from the back of the store. The older boy was polishing his glasses on his apron as Ray watched, noticing the way his lover's hands shook. When Michael finally slipped his lenses back on and looked up at Ray, his eyes told everything, from the red rims that meant he'd been crying to the dark circles that signaled a lack of sleep. His boy was in as bad a shape as he was. 

"What is it, Ray?" Michael asked, his voice a monotone drawl compared to his usual fire. Ray rubbed his neck, unsure how to express what was gnawing at him.

"I..."  _I miss them too. I still love him. I'm lost without them. I can't do this alone._  Finally, he sighed. "I need you, Michael." The redhead flinched at the desperation in Ray's voice, feeling it resonate with his own hopelessness. He opened his mouth to answer when the store's bell rang again, signaling the arrival of another customer.

"I hafta work, Ray. I- I got Gavin's shift now, too." He swallowed thickly,  trying to fight back more tears. "We'll meet tonight. At the hanging tree." Ray bit his bottom lip, looking away, but nodded.

"Alright. Nos vemos, cariño." Ray turned and walked out of the store, hearing Michael's false cheerfulness ring out behind him.

"Morning, Mister Burns! What can I do for ya?"

 

_Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree?  
_ _They strung up a man  
_ _They say who murdered three._

 

Ray hadn't gone to the hanging. Someone had to work on the farm, he teased his parents. Besides, there'd be plenty more hangings in his lifetime. Go ahead, he told them. I've got it handled. 

It was about ten minutes into hoeing that Ray broke down sobbing in the dirt.

Everything hurt. His head, his heart, his lungs- he couldn't take a proper breath without crying all the harder.

"Dammit, Ryan! Maldito, maldito, maldito! Por qué?" he choked out, slamming a fist into the soil. They'd all loved Ryan. They'd trusted him, despite his outlaw past. They thought, if they cherished him and gave him purpose working on Jack's ranch, that he'd be fine.

They were wrong.

Sheriff Heyman and Deputy Ellis had found Ryan above Geoff's tavern, cradling Gavin's body and rocking back and forth. He had been crying, murmuring _I love you_ and _forgive me_ , even though he was stained red to the wrist.

As Adam slammed Ryan against the floor, tying the hands that had left the ring of blue-purple bruises around Gavin's throat, Joel inspected the rest of Geoff's shophouse. It had been carnage. Geoff's tattooed knuckles were scraped and bloody, evidence he had tried to fight before he'd bled out from the long, jagged gashes Ryan had left in his throat with a broken whiskey bottle. Jack had a skinning knife lodged in his heart, alongside several other deep stab wounds from the same knife.

They said Ryan started laughing as Joel dry heaved.

 

_Are you, are you_   
_Coming to the tree?_   
_Where the dead man called out_   
_For his love to flee._

 

Michael had gone to the hanging. He wanted to look Ryan in the face, wanted him to see the hell he'd caused, what he'd done to Michael. 

He wanted to look Ryan in the eyes as he died, the noose tightening around his throat like his fingers had around Gavin's.

Mayor Hullum had read off Ryan's crime, sentencing him to death without emotion. His body was to be left in the tree for a few days, then thrown to the coyotes- there was no proper burial for a killer such as this.

There was no fear in Ryan's eyes as Sheriff Heyman put the rope around his neck. He searched the crowd, blue gaze going soft when he met Michael's eyes.

"Don't look," he said, a hint of a plea in his voice, but Michael glared at him resolutely. Sighing, Ryan had nodded, tears finally welling up in the man's eyes. His voice was thick when he spoke again, announcing, "Get it over with, Joel."

Three men hoisted Ryan into the air, yanking the rope up over the sturdiest hanging branch as the townspeople watched with bated breath. They wanted to hear him beg, to see him struggle and cry. They were disappointed.

A rebel to the end, James Ryan Haywood was as silent in death as he'd been in life.

As the crowd dispersed, there were mutters, speculation about why he hadn't asked for a preacher, why he hadn't prayed, why he hadn't asked for the Lord's forgiveness. It became a general consensus that the man was a heathen- it'd be no surprise, an outlaw and a murderer like him.

Michael knew better. Slowly but surely, Ryan had begun believing after Jack found him in his barn, crying and covered in blood that wasn't his own, and had offered him shelter and a job instead of turning him in. He had thanked God aloud when the five of them; Jack, Geoff, Michael, Gavin, and Ray; invited him into their lives and their hearts. Many a night, when he thought they were asleep, one or more would hear Ryan praying, choked up as he asked for the safety and happiness of his lovers. He had found God in Jack's deep laugh and Geoff's tattoos, in Michael's freckles and Gavin's accent, and in Ray's grin. They thought they'd saved him.

Evidently, they'd been wrong.

 

_Are you, are you  
_ _Coming to the tree?_  
 _Where I told you to run,_  
 _So we'd both be free._

 

Ray had to avert his eyes as he met Michael that night, Ryan's body still swaying slowly at the end of its rope. The redhead laid a hand on his shoulder, nodding towards the high branches of the tree when Ray finally looked at him. 

The full moon was the only witness to the boys' climb, the only one to hear their soft words and quiet tears. It alone saw their lips pressed together, a last, desperate act of comfort.

Only the moon saw their good-byes.

It was the sun that saw the boys found. The sun watched how Ray's mother fell to the ground under the tree, wailing like La Llorona as her husband knelt next to her; how Michael's father shook, holding his crying wife upright.

How Michael and Ray hung, hands linked, from the same branch as their dead lover.

 

_Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree?  
_ _Wear a necklace of rope  
_ _Side by side with me._

_Strange things did happen here  
_ _No stranger would it be  
_ _If we met at midnight  
_ _In the hanging tree._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
